


13-11-1984, Ste-Hélène, Park C., Byun B.

by Meansock



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Attempt at Humor, Denial of Feelings, Detectives, M/M, Mystery, POV First Person, Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:55:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meansock/pseuds/Meansock
Summary: Upon receiving news of a mysterious "Golden Flower" mentioned in late Baron Durand's will, rookie officers Park Chanyeol and Byun Baekhyun visit the curious village of Sainte-Hélène to contribute to its search. However, they soon realise that Sainte-Hélène holds many more secrets than they originally anticipated...Or, an embarrassing re-telling of the game Professor Layton and the Curious Village.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3





	1. Arrival, with a cherry on top

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I most certainly did not come up with the plot of this story, all rights belong to Level-5 and director Tatsuya Shinkai. This is just a re-telling of Professor Layton and the Curious Village. 
> 
> Whether you've played the game or not, I would be very happy if you gave this story a chance! Please enjoy <3

At first, I was taken aback at the view of Park Chanyeol dressed in an elegant three-piece suit. Then, I saw the shabby red Ford Escort he was leaning against. The rusty wheels completed the set.

‘I feel like I’m seventeen again,’ I said, only partly sarcastically as I locked my flat’s front door.

‘No date of yours had a killer car like this, that’s for certain.’

‘I will refrain from saying anything not to tarnish your ego.’

‘I don’t see your point.’

I arrived to stand in front of Chanyeol and we exchanged two quick kisses as a greeting before I stepped inside the car. I had seen the red beauty in the parking lot outside the offices many times over the two years of working with Chanyeol, but I had never gone inside before. I immediately was welcomed by the earthy smell of sandalwood, a scent I had solidly associated with Chanyeol. A rosary with wooden beads was hanging from the rear-view mirror.

Chanyeol sat heavily on the driver’s seat, and I noticed how he could barely fit his legs under the steering wheel but didn’t say anything. He turned the engine on but it made an exhausted wheezing sound and died back down the next instant. This time I opened my mouth to snarkily comment, my lips already forming a grin, but ultimately decided against it once more. I didn’t even own a car.

‘Aren’t you looking a little too good for this?’ I said instead, eyeing Chanyeol who attempted to start the engine a second time with his lips pursed. My partner’s suit was embroidered with some sort of fine burgundy thread upon closer speculation, and he had styled his hair in an endearing, old-fashioned quiff.

He started driving slowly. ‘Well, we _are_ visiting members of the aristocracy.’

‘Of a village that’s barley on the map.’

‘I don’t know, Byun, it’s the Baron’s family. I don’t have the heart to show up like,’ he glanced at me, ‘this.’

I opened my mouth in offended shock and scoffed loudly. I would have reacted a lot more intensely if Chanyeol weren’t driving so shakily. ‘Whatever’s wrong with my outfit?’

Chanyeol pushed his glasses further up his nose and sighed. ‘You know how I loathe these… semi-casual…’

‘Business casual.’ I was a little hurt. Chanyeol wasn’t even the one to talk; no matter how he valued his appearance, he couldn’t afford anything more than what was necessary. National Police really wasn’t a great source of bread and butter, but something is better than nothing. Since my parents migrated from South Korea during the Korean War, I was surprised I even landed a job overseas the first place. French police, at that. Chanyeol, although also Korean, had a French citizenship.

Besides, I had begun taking care of my appearance ever since I partnered up with Chanyeol. At first, it was all about competition. He was so much better than me in all aspects regarding appearance – he was tall, with an attractive physique and an even more attractive face – and I wanted to counter all that. But I met him better as we spent a lot of time together completing assignments, and something about him charmed me. Was it his appreciation for quality? His warmth? His sensitivity? His eagerness? I found myself behaving differently around him, feeling nervous, flustered, frustrated, doing things I would not normally do.

It was like I did not have total control over my actions. I was not used to feeling like this.

‘Look, it’s not even an important issue, it’s just an inheritance dispute. Frankly I don’t get why they didn’t call a lawyer,’ I said, maybe a bit more childishly than I would like to.

Chanyeol frowned. ‘Is that what they told you?’

I looked at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Didn’t they give you Lady Yvette’s letter? This whole story with the Golden Flower…?’

‘The golden what now?’

‘My, they really left you hanging.’

‘You’re not doing much better yourself,’ I spat.

He never missed a chance to show off how much better he was at the job than me.

Chanyeol snorted. ‘I see you’re not big on suspense.’

‘When it’s about the case I’m working on, no I’m really not.’

I sounded a lot more vexed than I really was, since I knew Chanyeol was only teasing me. I just wanted to tone Chanyeol’s inferiority complex down a notch. ‘Well, this concerns late Baron Durand’s mysterious will. In it, he promised to give his entire fortune to the person who manages to find some “Golden Flower”, hidden somewhere inside the village,’ he started, dismissing my frown. ‘Of course, the villagers looked everywhere for the Golden Flower, but it proved to be quite the challenge. They’re even considering that it doesn’t exist at all and that the Baron made it all up because he didn’t want his fortune distributed.’

‘But what is the Golden Flower?’

Chanyeol smiled. ‘No one knows. Some suggest it’s some sort of gem, others think it’s a precious artifact or relic, realists say it’s just cash… it’s a mess.’

‘So it might very well be a fraud,’ I said.

‘I wholeheartedly hope not. The village is a three-hour drive.’

I took a moment to process what I was just told. I shook my head. ‘This is absurd. What the hell does he think this is, a mystery novel? Inheriting an entire fortune isn’t a game.’ I sighed. ‘Rich people, I swear to God.’

‘Based on Lady Yvette, he was quite the extravagant man.’

‘Could it be that Yvette’s bullshitting? Maybe she’s mad that her husband didn’t pass his fortune to her or something like that.’

‘I seriously doubt she’d go to the national police with a far-fetched story like that,’ Chanyeol said.

I hated when he was right. I gave a slow nod, nonetheless; ‘I see the police took it very seriously, choosing to send us to solve this case.’

Chanyeol laughed, an unattractive, wheezing sound that was always accompanied by his clapping (this time his hands were occupied, but I _was_ ready to take over) but inexplicably never ceased to make me smile myself. ‘Oh, give us some credit. Just because we’re rookies doesn’t mean we’re terrible at our job.’

I scoffed and decided not to comment on his wishful thinking. I looked out of the window, noticing how the landscape slowly changed from the city to the countryside. ‘Where is Sainte-Hélène anyway?’ I asked.

‘Up north.’

I stared at Jesus Christ on the crucifix swinging back and forth. He stared back.

‘I don’t know what I expected but I sure as hell did not expect a moat,’ I said once Chanyeol killed the engine. ‘Are you sure this is it? Did you check the map?’

Chanyeol just pointed with his chin towards a sign indicating very clearly in large, black letters that this was, in fact, Sainte-Hélène. I coughed.

We got out of the car, and I spontaneously mumbled something about my ass feeling numb, immediately hoping Chanyeol didn’t catch any of it.

‘I wonder if it’s okay to park here,’ Chanyeol said and looked around as he slammed his door shut. ‘I don’t see any other cars around.’

‘Chanyeol, we’re the police.’

We made our way towards the village in reluctant steps. ‘That’s a repulsive village alright,’ Chanyeol muttered. Having grown up in the countryside, much like myself, Chanyeol had developed an almost protective care for villages and smaller towns, especially now with the growing element of urbanisation in France.

But there was something about Sainte-Hélène that did not give a feel of home. It was surrounded by a shallow moat that emitted an unpleasant smell. From afar it looked densely structured, if not cramped, and everything had some sort of brownish colour, like an aged photograph. Even the sky.

‘Is that the manor over there?’ I asked, pointing towards an oddly built tower that loomed over the village.

‘I should think so.’

‘It looks like it’ll collapse any moment,’ I noted, displeased. We started walking towards the village in slow steps, as if we were promenading. ‘Why does this place remind me of East Berlin?’

‘No wonder why no one knows it.’

We stood at the edge of the moat and faced a lifted drawbridge. There was an operation room right next to it, and man that was facing the other way inside.

I looked up at Chanyeol. ‘So, like, do we-’

‘Excuse me!’ Chanyeol yelled. I jumped and yelped, regrettably.

It took a while for the man to turn around. ‘Would you please draw the bridge for us? We received an invitation from Lady Yvette.’

I couldn’t see the man’s expression, but from his movements it was clear he was annoyed. He stood up from his chair lazily and started handling a lever. He was moving so lethargically it felt like we were watching a machine work after years of remaining unused. ‘What for?’ he yelled back, as the bridge went down.

‘We are here to investigate the case of the Golden Flower.’

The man laughed heartily, more rasp than voice. ‘It’s a case now? Who’d have thought.’

We started crossing the bridge, the wood creaking under our weight. ‘Ah, yes. Could you tell us the way to the manor?’

The man sighed. ‘You’re gonna see an inn once you pass through. If you take the path leading right, you’re gonna end up in the village square. Go right all the way from there.’

Chanyeol thanked the man as we passed through, and he just grunted in response.

‘That was a wonderful first impression of the village folk,’ I muttered. ‘I swear, if this turns out to be something stupid…’

‘It would make for a unique experience,’ Chanyeol noted.

I shook my head with a laugh. ‘Are you unable to see the dark side of things?’

‘No, but I figured one person doing that all the time is enough.’

‘Turns out that tower isn’t the manor,’ I remarked once we found ourselves face-to-face with the building. We had to walk a long path through a large statue-filled garden until we reached the manor. It wasn’t very big, perhaps three stories, with a pointed terracotta roof and large windows and balconies. It looked very fairytale-like and out of place in this grim place.

There was a man pruning some bushes in the garden. ‘Oh, officers! You’re here already?’ He made his way towards us, jumping over a low statue with a little noise. ‘It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Vincent, I’ve been working for the Baron and his family for a couple of years now.’

He first exchanged handshakes with me, then with Chanyeol. I’m sure we looked like a very awkward pair, Chanyeol being about a head taller than me. Walking with him didn’t do wonders to my confidence.

‘It’s a pleasure, Vincent,’ Chanyeol said. ‘I am Park Chanyeol.’

‘Byun Baekhyun,’ I popped in with a smile.

‘You’re doing a splendid job maintaining the garden,’ Chanyeol said, making Vincent grin.

‘Well I have to admit it’s tiring,’ he laughed. His hands were hardened and red, nails dirty and a bandage was wrapped around his finger. ‘Anywho, I mustn’t keep you any longer. Lady Yvette is probably waiting for your arrival.’

‘Have a wonderful evening.’

We arrived at the doorstep and I pulled the string next to the entrance to ring the doorbell. It was a rusty, classic _ding-dong_ chime. Almost immediately, the wooden door opened with a loud creaking noise and a spectacled, stout man stood in the entrance. The light from inside the manor framed him and made him look like some sort of divine being. We were standing at the gates of paradise.

‘Welcome, sirs!’ he greeted enthusiastically. ‘We’ve been expecting you.’ He took a few steps back to allow us in. The manor was definitely impressive on the inside. The floor was made out of marble with orange hues, the walls were covered in heavy frames and thin, transparent curtains. Some wide steps led lower towards a little sitting room of sorts, with three cream armchairs and a tea table. There was a huge library behind it, full of leather-bound books.

‘My name is Maurice, I am the butler of this household,’ the man said and lightly bowed.

‘Very nice to meet you, Maurice.’ We introduced ourselves returning the gesture. I felt compelled to lower my voice for some reason.

‘Please, this way,’ Maurice said and started climbing a large staircase, covered by a thin strip of a carpet. The wall next to us was adorned with muted portraits painted with oils. ‘I know we’re quite far from the city,’ Maurice said as they climbed, ‘I deeply appreciate your arrival,’ he laughed nervously.

‘Oh but of course, Maurice,’ Chanyeol said and I cringed. ‘It is nothing short of our duty to assist in a tricky situation such as this one.’

I wish I could share his confidence. Firstly, I was still quite anxious about the situation, being misinformed as I was. Then, my French was not nearly as good as Chanyeol’s. I decided to just leave everything to him and nod.

We entered a large room, seemingly another sitting room, same set of warm colours as the rest of the manor. Its ceiling was tall, and an impressive chandelier was hanging from it in the centre of the room. A red curtain at the opposing wall acted as a partition for probably another room. Soft music played from a gramophone placed on a glass side table next to the curtain. A large man was sitting on the flower-patterned loveseat, wearing a rather distasteful suit. Behind him, gazing out of the big window stood a tall woman dressed in pink. She had a dreadful Persian cat in her arms, stroking it absent-mindedly.

‘Madam,’ Maurice gently called. The man on the sofa looked up from the cakes set on the low table and stood up hastily. The woman turned around, causing the cat to stir.

‘Oh, wonderful,’ she said. ‘I was worried you wouldn’t make it.’

She approached us with a tight, unpleasant smile and let the white creature jump from her arms and land next to the sofa. Her earrings dangled with each step she took.

‘It is so very nice to meet you,’ she said and extended a hand towards Chanyeol first. I noticed that Chanyeol was somehow given a lot more credit than myself. I didn’t suppose it was from our difference in attire.

It was the height, probably.

‘Likewise. My name is Park Chanyeol and this is my partner, Byun Baekhyun,’ Chanyeol said while taking the Lady’s hand and giving it a gentle shake. Lady Yvette turned to me and something in her smile changed. ‘Charmed,’ I said, accepting the handshake. I had the feeling she expected us to kiss her hand, but let bygones be bygones.

‘Officers, meet my brother-in-law,’ she said, nodding towards the man by the sofa.

‘Philippe Durand, sirs,’ he said hurriedly and shook our hands nervously. Beads of sweat were concentrating on his forehead. I made a huge effort not to wipe my hand after the handshake, but from the corner of my eye I saw Chanyeol wasn’t able to do the same. Subtle, but still noticeable.

‘We would like you to review the will with us, officers, and clear up any questions that you may have,’ Lady Yvette said. ‘Although, as you may have presumed, we have our own generous amount of unanswered questions.’

The Lady paused and silence stretched. I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to do something. Chanyeol just nodded, sharing my awkwardness. The golden wire of his glasses gently reflected the lights and hid his expression masterfully.

Lady Yvette slightly turned her head and shot Philippe Durand a sharp stare, despite her practiced smile. ‘Where is your nephew?’ she hissed.

Her brother-in-law looked about ready to piss himself. ‘I don’t…’ he said, and his voice trailed off. ‘He said he was revising his notes in the side room.’

‘That was quite a while ago,’ Lady Yvette remarked.

‘Sébastien?’ Philippe Durand called to the red curtains’ general direction.

Lady Yvette brought her fingers to her temple. ‘I am so, deeply sorry about this.’

‘Please, don’t be,’ Chanyeol assured. He was breaking into a bit of a sweat himself. The light from the chandelier had gotten a little hot, admittedly.

The man clumsily made his way towards the side room, calling for his nephew once again.

‘Sébastien is the one who will go through the will with you, as he is a lawyer. I am sorry about the unprofessionalism on his part,’ the Lady said.

I had the feeling Chanyeol would say the exact same thing he said before, so I butted in. ‘It’s alright. Please don’t worry.’

‘ _Mon Dieu_!’

Our heads snapped in M Durand’s direction in unison.

‘What is it now?’ Lady Yvette barked, but there was concern in her eyes.

The man entered the room hurriedly and the curtain slid closed behind him.

‘Philippe!’ the Lady cried and strode towards the side room, her heels resonating loudly in the sitting room. I looked at Chanyeol and he looked back, as if searching for clues in each other’s eyes. We followed suit.

Lady Yvette pulled the curtain open with unexpected strength and rushed inside. M Durand was kneeling in front of a young man fallen face-first on the cold tile floor, his glasses scattered nearby, their temple bent yet unbroken.

M Durand’s hands were trembling.

‘He’s dead.’


	2. Love, Céline

‘If we admit we have no idea what the cause of death is, will they sue?’ I muttered in Korean.

‘Do I look like I fucking know?’ Chanyeol murmured back. ‘I mean in theory no, we’re not doctors, but how should I know what’s in the minds of the country folk all up in here.’

‘Oh, so they’re suddenly country folk now? What happened to the aristocra-’

‘I- I don’t understand,’ M Durand said shakily. ‘He was just there a moment ago, perfectly fine… how…? When? I- I-’

‘Sir Durand, please calm down,’ Maurice, the butler said. He had heard the commotion from downstairs and hurried to the room a while ago. Although he seemed extremely shaken himself, he was preoccupied with trying to calm his two masters down.

‘Would you like a glass of water?’ I asked M Durand.

Stupid thing of me to offer, since I had no idea where the glasses or the water was. I unhelpfully looked around the room, however.

‘Is there a reason as to why the window in the side room was open?’ I overheard Chanyeol question Lady Yvette. She was not nearly as fazed by Sébastien’s death as her brother-in-law, but it was clear she was hiding behind a façade.

‘I- I don’t know…’ she replied. ‘Maurice, did you open the window?’

‘Pardon?’

‘The window in the side room, did you open it before Sébastien came in?’

‘No, Madam, I don’t believe so.’

‘Why, do you suspect… an- an intrusion?’ she asked, panic now obvious on her face.

‘No, nothing like that, Madam,’ he assured her. He shot me a look. Search the house, it said.

Shit. I did not sign up for this.

With trembling legs, I made my way out of the living room feeling utterly pathetic and powerless. I had nothing to defend myself with, I wasn’t given anything from the station because apparently I didn’t need it; I hadn’t received training either. Locals in the same post as I had assets, though. I prayed to Chanyeol’s God that my hapkido was going to do for now.

Being honest, there really was an extremely slim chance of the intruder – if there even was one – to be in any room other than that side room, since the side room wasn’t connected to any other room in the manor. They would have to pass through the sitting room where both Lady Yvette and M Durand were waiting at when Sébastien entered the side room.

The room I went in must have been Lady Yvette’s chambers. It was even larger than the sitting room, with tall windows, a glass low-table, an elegant wardrobe. Most noticeable though, was the bed. I had never seen such a huge bed before. This must be the king-sized type. Funnily enough, there was only one set of pillows.

‘Murder is very unlikely,’ Chanyeol was saying. I could hear him very faintly through the wall. Hearing his voice gave me some needed comfort.

I checked just about everywhere a human could hide, my heart beating loudly all the while.

I was about to continue my search in the next room, when my eyes caught onto something. A framed photograph on the bedside. I gingerly took it in my hands and looked closely.

It was a picture of Lady Yvette, completely unchanged, holding a small child in her arms, and a big-bellied man next to her, smiling widely. It must have been the late Baron. I wondered who the little girl was - I hadn’t seen any girls in the manor yet. It would be wise to maybe have someone go out with her for a bit. She didn’t need to see a dead body.

I frowned as I noticed some writing on the side of the frame. _Love, Céline_. Céline? I decided not to think much of it for the moment.

I quickly exited the chambers and entered a new room, with renewed gusto. It was less grand than Lady Yvette’s chambers, but it was still very impressive. I checked under the perfectly made bed, in the empty closet, behind the spotless mirror, the tapestry. There was no intruder, but definitely something very off about this room. It looked like no one had stepped in there for a while.

The third floor was but an intruder-free attic, full of furniture covered by white linens.

By the time I searched every crook and cranny of this manor, it had already gotten dark. I headed to the sitting room on the second floor, and I almost had to conceal a laugh. Maurice, Yvette with her dreadful feline, M Durand and Chanyeol were all sitting on the sofa looking exhausted. Poor M Durand must have been crying, and no amount of make-up could mask how the blood had drained from Lady Yvette’s face. Chanyeol’s glasses had slid all the way down to the tip of his nose. Maurice had brought a pitcher with water and four glasses, all of them now sitting empty. Someone had eaten just about all the cakes, as well.

‘Well, there wasn’t an intrusion,’ I unhelpfully provided. ‘Any leads?’

‘I have no idea,’ Chanyeol sighed, and he had never sounded so baffled before. ‘No idea what happened to him.’

None of them seemed to be in the mood for suing at Chanyeol’s confession.

‘We found this,’ M Durand said and extended his arm towards me. He was holding something in his hand. I leaned in to see it more clearly. ‘Take it,’ he urged.

It was a cog. A very small gear wheel with some sort of symbol in its centre.

I frowned. ‘Any idea what this is?’ I asked no one in particular.

No one in particular answered.

‘Detectives, I see no point in keeping you here any longer,’ Lady Yvette said. The woman was so shaken she placed us a rank above in the hierarchy. ‘I insist you get some rest in our village’s best inn, in the central square.’

‘Thank you, Lady Yvette,’ Chnayeol said. ‘We will investigate this case further as our priority. We will call for enforcements tonight.’

Maurice stood up after Chanyeol to escort us out.

‘Have a wonderful night,’ Lady Yvette said as we walked out of the room.

We followed Maurice as he went down the stairs.

‘I never got the chance to say it, but… I’m very sorry for your loss,’ I said quietly.

‘Indeed. My condolences. It was a shame we didn’t get the chance to meet him,’ Chanyeol added gravely.

Maurice took a deep breath. ‘Honestly, he was quite disagreeable. Very selfish and money driven. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone indeed murdered him.’ He turned on his heel to face us once he reached the door wearing an undecipherable expression. ‘But thank you, anyway. Please ask Vincent for directions to the inn.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short, but thank you for reading<3 Be safe !


	3. Auberge du Maître

‘I’d love to know Maurice’s thought process when he practically admitted his motive to two police officers investigating a death,' I said, trying to keep my teeth from clattering once we took the road to the central square. Night had fallen a while ago and it was extremely cold. I was walking with Chanyeol right at my side, squeezing ourselves together for warmth.

‘He probably felt comfortable saying that since we ruled out the possibility of murder.’

The weak light from the lampposts and the houses’ windows made Chanyeol’s warm complexion look like fragile parchment paper. Many strands of his hair had stubbornly escaped the confinements of styling wax.

‘How do you even know it wasn’t a murder? Indeed, there were no signs of a physical attack, but how are you so certain he wasn’t poisoned or something of the like?’ I asked. ‘Maurice is the butler, you know. He must be serving them their meals.’

‘I don’t fucking know, Byun,’ Chanyeol sighed for the second time after our arrival. ‘I’ll call for backup once we settle in the inn. This shitty village doesn’t even have healthcare workers. I’m genuinely interested in seeing what they’ll do with the body.’

‘Your attitude definitely underwent a change on the matter of this case,’ I teased.

He decided not to reply, which I somehow appreciated. Even I annoyed myself sometimes.

'Speaking of the inn, funny how we couldn’t find Vincent,' I remarked.

‘That’s true. Doesn’t he live in the garden house or something,' Chanyeol replied, his words coated with so much sarcasm I got offended.

'I mean! I can’t help but getting worried after all that happened in there,' I whined, defending myself.

‘It’s about an hour after midnight, why on earth did they expect him to be in the garden?’

We finally reached the square, the clock tower marking the area as our destination. Truthfully, we didn’t need Vincent for any directions. The inn was only one, and it looked absolutely ancient. It seemed as though Chanyeol shared the same thoughts as I, because he quoted Lady Yvette’s “one of our best inns”.

He had gotten very sour and I didn’t know what to do with him.

Chanyeol had fascinated me from the start since he was always very open. He didn’t believe in hiding his feelings, or pretending to feel a way he didn’t. He wasn’t afraid to cry, and I remember how shocked I was when he did, in front of me. In a society where men were expected to have a palette of three feelings, he felt like a breath of fresh air.

My heeled shoes echoed crisply on the stone pavement as we walked towards the inn. The blue dye on the door had flaked with age, revealing the raw wood underneath. The sign above it had the same luck, and I had never seen the words _“Auberge du Maître”_ look so miserable.

‘At least it has windows,’ Chanyeol grimly said, looking up at the cramped square windows on the higher floors. I laughed, remembering an earlier expedition in which we were given some terrible rooms in the basement, no ventilation, no windows. We had curtains, though.

‘Ah, laughter. Hadn’t had this in a while.’ An overweight woman was sitting behind the counter in the reception area, stirring an old cup slowly. ‘You’re not from here.’

Although the lights were very warm and welcoming, the humidity still made me shiver. I could smell something sweet in the air, unpleasantly blended with an earthy scent. The floorboards groaned under our weight as we made our way towards the counter, and I thought I saw a spider scurry in a crevice.

‘I mean, if you’re looking for a place to stay, you’re obviously not from here,’ she added, rolling her eyes. ‘But you’re not from the… general area.’

Usually Chanyeol could handle these types of situation rather effortlessly, but he seemed out of it tonight. ‘We would like to stay for the night,’ he said very, very flatly.

Miraculously, something in his attitude struck a chord in the receptionist’s heart. ‘Well, of course,’ she giggled. ‘You have any room in your disposal. We’re very lonely here.’

‘A room with two single beds should do.’

‘Oh, don’t you want separate rooms?’

‘No, we don’t.’

The woman stood up from her chair, accidentally giving the vase of fake flowers on the counter a spin.

‘I’m Florence. I own this inn with my husband, but he’s out at this moment,’ she said while retrieving our keys.

‘Out? Are shops still open at this hour?’ I asked in surprise.

‘Oh, yes. His friend Bernard owns this horrible tavern. I don’t think it ever closes,’ she laughed, a high-pitched weeping sound.

Chanyeol smiled politely and opened his palm to receive the key. Florence had other plans.

‘How come you’re visiting Sainte-Hélène? Did they send you into exile?’ Another series of weeping laughter followed. I couldn’t contain my snort. I probably should have.

‘…We’re police officers, in fact,’ Chanyeol replied, and fetched his badge to show Florence. ‘We’re here to investi-’

‘The police?’ Florence exclaimed, wide-eyed. ‘I would have never guessed! Are you here for the disappearances?’

‘We’re here to investigate the case of the case of the Go- disappearances?’

‘The Golden Flower, huh?’ Florence grinned. ‘Is that what it’s called now?’

‘Madam, you mentioned something about disappearances?’

‘Oh, me? Disappearances? No, no probably just thinking aloud! I have to find a way to stop that habit!’ She shoved the key into Chanyeol’s hand. ‘Your room is on the second floor, room 12!’

We thanked Florence and climbed the narrow staircase, Chanyeol following me suit. I was scared the steps would give way at any moment with how loud and unstable they were being.

The second floor had a thin green carpet adorned with chewing gums and a tacky wallpaper plastered only halfway on the walls. Wall lights illuminated the corridor warmly yet dimly, giving me the impression we were in some sort of pirate ship dungeon.

‘She did say “disappearances”,’ I told Chanyeol who had caught up with me.

‘No shit,’ he said. ‘I suppose we’ll have to ask Lady Yvette about this tomorrow.’

‘The longer we’re staying here the more suspicious this village gets,’ I muttered and stopped in front of our door. The number was handwritten in something I hoped was not a pen.

The door creaked, like everything else in this inn, as Chanyeol opened it. It was quite spacious, with two beds on either side of the room. A window and a bedside came in between them. A cream coloured rug was placed under a round table with two chairs. A large map was placed by one bed, and a wooden wardrobe by the other. A door on our left probably lead to the bathroom.

‘Chrissake,’ I said between my teeth while dumbly standing in the centre of the room. ‘We don’t even have anything to unpack.’

‘How should have we expected we’d actually stay here… I want to go home already.’

‘Let’s call the department,’ I said and moved towards the bedside, in hopes of finding a telephone. The Bible. Huh. ‘We must also report about the alleged disappearances.’

‘You’re right, although I’d rather gather some more information on that before reporting back. They already hate us anyway.’

I slumped on the bed. ‘I understand why they would treat me differently, but why you?’ I wondered. ‘You were born here.’

‘You were born here too.’

‘I was born in Germany.’

‘Europe, I meant.’ Chanyeol begun taking his jacket off, very cautiously. ‘As for me, no matter my citizenship, I’ll never be treated as a proper French citizen, not with how I look. You’d think Europe is very forward in this kind of thing but… it’s the same shit everywhere, after all.’

I chuckled and landed my back against the mattress. It was a lot harder than I anticipated. ‘I’m just sticking to being grateful for having a job.’

I was staring at the cracked ceiling but could hear Chanyeol’s footsteps as he paced for a little while longer. Then they stopped.

‘Wanna join the beds?’

I ignored the beat my heart skipped.

I craned my neck to his general direction. ‘Come again?’

‘Wanna… join the beds?’

‘No, I,’ I sighed. ‘I heard you the first time.’

‘So what do you say?’

I propped myself on my elbows, using my best weirded-out expression and scoffed. ‘Where did that come from?’

Chanyeol troubled me. Whenever I sucked it up and admitted to myself that there is no way my feelings were ever going to be reciprocated, he did something like that – out of nowhere, like he suddenly had an idea. I had decided to never allow myself to think much about him, or rather the feelings I had for him, because I would just end up getting hurt. Someone like Chanyeol could have anyone he wanted. He would never look this way.

But then he went ahead and…

‘Nowhere in particular. Just want to be close to you.’

‘Wh-what for?’

‘You know…’

‘No.’

‘To talk and… this and that…’

‘We can talk fine at a distance,’ I said, flatly.

Chanyeol almost pouted, and I almost shot up to pull my bed next to his.

‘I like your company, Byun.’

I had to look away from him, because I felt my cheeks heating up. I was afraid he could hear my heart beat, it resonated so loudly. ‘I-’

‘You have something to say about anything,’ he said, and a smile started slowly blooming on his face the more he talked. ‘And you have such a way of expressing your opinion, but you also change your mind so easily...! I could talk with you for hours. Or just listen to you talk. I really want to spend more time with you, Baekhyun, apart from work.’ 

No, I had to be very strong now. Because otherwise I would be very hurt and very alone, and I wouldn’t bear the regret.

We were about to ask Florence if we could use the telephone in the reception, but we were halted by her expression. It wasn’t a bearer of good news. ‘Officers,’ she begun. ‘Something troublesome happened.’

I felt something click in my system. I don’t think either of us could handle something troublesome right now.

‘Like what?’ I asked breathlessly.

‘You see, for the drawbridge to operate, we need a crank. I just received a phone call – the crank got stolen as the drawbridge was up,’ she explained. ‘We’re all trapped in Sainte-Hélène.’

I could almost see Chanyeol stomping his foot and sighing in annoyance. He settled for rapid blinking this time. ‘The- what- _stolen_? Who would steal-?’

Florence gave an almost sympathetic lopsided smile.

‘We are _not_ dealing with stealth right now. One thing at a time!’ Chanyeol stated, putting his hand up defensively. ‘I understand that you are a small village, but don’t you have any authorities?’

Because I felt Chanyeol’s breakdown downing upon all of us, I decided to act. ‘Speaking of authorities, we would actually like to use your telephone to contact our department. Many unexpected events have occurred and we’re in need of enforcements.’

‘Oh… the police, is it?’ Florence said bemusedly.

‘Y-yes.’

‘Well, I’m afraid the telephone lines are very underdeveloped here… we can’t phone anyone outside of the village at the moment.’

‘ _What?_ ’

‘Yes, we would normally send letters, but with the drawbridge closed, we can’t really do that anymore, can we?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! take care <3


	4. The Looming Tower

‘If democracy were a place, this village would be it,’ Chanyeol grumbled, stabbing his steak with his fork. Blood oozed from the punctures.

If the entire village seemed like a ghost town during the day and night, it was because everyone had gathered in Bernard’s tavern. The shop was brightly lit, smelled deliciously of burning fat and rum, and fast-paced old records were playing from some speakers of terrible quality. Laughter and the clinking of glasses and cutlery resonated all around us.

Almost every table was taken, and the bar was full. Not a single woman was in sight.

Both Chanyeol and I were famished, not having eaten anything since breakfast, so we decided to stop by the tavern for a bite since it was open. Although I lived a rather hectic life as a teenager, one thing I hadn’t done was to have a full-fledged meal at 3 o’clock in the morning. Somehow, I could sense it becoming a pattern, and I didn’t like it.

‘It’s as if they waited for us to get all the crimes started,’ I said with my mouth full of potatoes. I spat a little half-chewed piece next to Chanyeol’s napkin. If he noticed, he decided to brush it off.

‘Or maybe all of this happens on a regular basis,’ Chanyeol offered with a raised brow. ‘They have no authorities,’ he laughed. It was from the laughter you’d give when you try not to cry. His glasses had begun to fog up due to the steam produced by his meal, and he took them off; no tears after all.

‘Let’s see,’ I said. ‘Inheritance issue,’ I lifted my index finger, ‘inexplicable death,’ second finger, ‘stealth of a _crank_ ,’ third finger, ‘All within twelve hours.’

Chanyeol shook his head. ‘I’ll go get us a drink.’

I perked up at the mention of alcohol. ‘Captain Morgan with cola!’

Chanyeol raised his hand. _I know_.

We often had drinks together, Chanyeol and I. Actually, Chanyeol was from the very few people I ever had drinks with. He got so stupid when he was drunk, and his composure went out the window. It’s like he did whatever came to mind, with whoever was in front of him, not worried about the consequences. He was so out of it sometimes, he even attempted to flirt to the unsuspecting soul next to him.

Which happened to almost always be me.

I was not sure if I loved or hated drinking with him. I always just convinced myself that he simply did not have the chance or the time for these indulgences in his daily life, so the unattended urges surfaced when he didn’t have total control of himself. I never took it personally - put an end to it as soon as it started. Before I caught my heart beat a little faster.

We, like the wise duo we were, had decided to sit at a table that was right next to the tavern’s entrance. Naturally, when the door burst open, a cold gust of wind made me shudder. A man and a woman entered hurriedly, both looking very distressed.

‘I couldn’t find her anywhere!’ the woman shrieked urgently. ‘She wasn’t at Anne’s, she wasn’t at the fountain, she wasn’t in the park, we checked all the shops…’

‘Alright, calm down first,’ the man said and guided her to the table next to ours. The woman sat heavily and put her head between her hands.

‘Where has she gone?’

‘You don’t suppose she left the village…?’

‘And gone where!’

The man sighed and put a hand on his hip. ‘Maybe she stepped out and now can’t get back in, with the crank missing.’

‘She couldn’t have gone outside, Jean-Claude wouldn’t have let her!’ she cried, irritated.

‘You seriously trust that Jean-Claude?’

‘Matthieu, not now!’

I wondered if I should step in, but then I remembered Florence’s attitude when we asked for more details on the disappearances. I decided to just listen for now. Something clearly wasn’t right.

‘She’s at the tower,’ the woman stated in a shaky voice.

‘The-? You’re exaggerating now.’

‘Do you have any other explanation?’

This time the man pulled a chair to sit himself. ‘Why would she be in there?’

‘Why is anyone?’

After a short pause, Matthieu shook his head. ‘These are just rumours. I’m sure the tower is just an empty thing, it’s ready to crumble.’

The woman took a deep breath and fiddled with her fingers. She pursed her lips and her eyes suddenly seemed to fill with tears. ‘Then why’s it making these noises?’ she whimpered.

Matthieu’s face lit up. ‘That’s it!’ he said. ‘We didn’t hear the noise when Juliette disappeared, so she wasn’t taken to the tower!’

The woman seemed to consider his reasoning. ‘What if we just missed it?’ she asked, but something in her tone revealed she didn’t agree with her own thinking.

‘We couldn’t have.’

‘But what if there isn’t always this noise when someone disappears?’

‘It’s been that way for years, Esther. I don’t think things would change just like that. Calm down,’ he said. ‘Let’s ask at the bar.’

The pair noisily pushed their chairs back and slowly made their way to the back of the tavern, where I saw a wide-eyed Chanyeol approaching with our drinks in hand. After seeing his face, I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

He slammed the glasses on our table, spilling some of the rich brown liquid on the table.

‘I’ve got news,’ we said in unison.

‘We can’t even enjoy a meal in peace in here,’ I grumbled. What would you call what we just had? A dinner? A breakfast? ‘What’s with all the superstition? I didn’t take them for the lot.’

Chanyeol scoffed. ‘You didn’t take them for the lot? They’ve been searching for a “Golden Flower” for God knows how long now, what are you talking about?’

I wanted to give a reaction, but I could barely speak with how stiff my jaw felt from the cold. The rum hadn’t helped as much as I hoped it would. ‘At least the Golden Flower promises wealth!’ I said. ‘Even sophisticated folks would do ridiculous things for money! What’s all that about the tower?’ My voice cracked.

Chanyeol was uncomfortably leaning against me – with great height came great weight -, he was both sleepy and tipsy, and I couldn’t concentrate on holding both of us up and guide us back to the right place. I had taken a wrong turn somewhere and I was ready to deem my mistake incorrigible and give up on the spot.

‘Stay away from the tower, my ass. What’s it going to do, chase me?’

‘It’ll engulf you and then make a digestive sound,’ I replied.

‘Is that your way of saying a “burp”?’

‘Why would I imply that a tower bur-’

‘Where _are_ we, Baekhyun?’

The sound of my first name from his lips made me feel very nervous. ‘I, ah…’

‘How could you get _lost_ in a _village_?’

‘Well, you’re not helping much yourself!’

‘This is so you,’ Chanyeol said. Then, he broke into an idiotic smile. ‘You’re so… You amaze me.’

I scoffed, to mask my little choke. ‘For all the wrong reasons.’

Chanyeol suddenly stopped walking, he stubbornly stomped his foot. ‘No,’ he said, ‘not the wrong reasons.’

The sincerity in his voice made me very uncomfortable, and suddenly I knew where this was going. I was waiting for it.

Chanyeol stopped leaning on me and did his upmost to stand straight. He held my shoulders with both hands, not allowing me to face anywhere else but towards him. There was a lamppost right next to us that weakly illuminated his face in a golden light, not much, but just enough to reveal his vulnerable expression. His large, almond eyes and his high cheekbones and the shabby skin of his jawline.

‘You’re always so quick to dismiss my feelings. And then you avoid me. And pretend like nothing happened.’

I focused on the glistening mist that left his lips as he spoke, that one part of me fighting to do what it was so used to doing and resist. But this felt a little different than other times, a little more intimate, a little more sober.

Another involuntary scoff escaped me, and I looked down, at our feet. If I moved mine a little forward, or if he moved his, they’d touch. ‘What “feelings”, Chanyeol?’ I asked, quietly. ‘Do you even know what you’re talking about?’

I felt one hand leave my shoulder, and with it the tension that overtook my body.

‘Yeah,’ he replied, simply. ‘Yeah, I do.’

With the corner of my eye, I saw that hand come level with my shoulder again, but then it travelled up, up and very slowly, very softly, settled on my cheek. The touch was icy and electrifying, and it made me flinch. It asked me so sweetly to look up, and I could do nothing but comply.

I had a retort ready, at the tip of my tongue, but the moment I met his eyes it vanished. His other hand crept slowly to the base of my neck, and he begun closing in.

My heartbeat was erratic, my chest swelling, and my mind split.

Suddenly, some movement behind him caught my attention, and without thinking, the force of habit lead me to my unwavering rejection.

‘Ah, excuse me!’ I called, and the sound of my loud voice shocked me. Chanyeol, like as if awakened from a trance, jumped back and around, to follow my gaze. There was a man a little ahead of us, handling a large garbage bag. ‘Could you please tell us the way to…’ the man turned, ‘…the…’

I thought my heart leaped out of my chest. One edge of the garbage bag slipped from his gloved fingers. On the ground, with a heavy thump, fell a body. The lights were dim, but still enough to make out the lifeless face.

‘

‘If democracy were a place, this village would be it,’ Chanyeol grumbled, stabbing his steak with his fork. Blood oozed from the punctures.

If the entire village seemed like a ghost town during the day and night, it was because everyone had gathered in Bernard’s tavern. The shop was brightly lit, smelled deliciously of burning fat and rum, and fast-paced old records were playing from some speakers of terrible quality. Laughter and the clinking of glasses and cutlery resonated all around us.

Almost every table was taken, and the bar was full. Not a single woman was in sight.

Both Chanyeol and I were famished, not having eaten anything since breakfast, so we decided to stop by the tavern for a bite since it was open. Although I lived a rather hectic life as a teenager, one thing I hadn’t done was to have a full-fledged meal at 3 o’clock in the morning. Somehow, I could sense it becoming a pattern, and I didn’t like it.

‘It’s as if they waited for us to get all the crimes started,’ I said with my mouth full of potatoes. I spat a little half-chewed piece next to Chanyeol’s napkin. If he noticed, he decided to brush it off.

‘Or maybe all of this happens on a regular basis,’ Chanyeol offered with a raised brow. ‘They have no authorities,’ he laughed. It was from the laughter you’d give when you try not to cry. His glasses had begun to fog up due to the steam produced by his meal, and he took them off; no tears after all.

‘Let’s see,’ I said. ‘Inheritance issue,’ I lifted my index finger, ‘inexplicable death,’ second finger, ‘stealth of a _crank_ ,’ third finger, ‘All within twelve hours.’

Chanyeol shook his head. ‘I’ll go get us a drink.’

I perked up at the mention of alcohol. ‘Captain Morgan with cola!’

Chanyeol raised his hand. _I know_.

We often had drinks together – Chanyeol and I. Actually, Chanyeol was from the very few people I ever had drinks with. He got so stupid when he was drunk, and his composure went out the window. It’s like he did whatever came to mind, with whoever was in front of him, not worried about the consequences. He was so out of it sometimes, he even attempted to flirt to the unsuspecting soul next to him.

Which happened to almost always be me.

I was not sure if I loved or hated drinking with him. I always just convinced myself that he simply did not have the chance or the time for these indulgences in his daily life, so the unattended urges surfaced when he didn’t have total control of himself. I never took it personally - put an end to it as soon as it started. Before I caught my heart beat a little faster.

We, like the wise duo we were, had decided to sit at a table that was right next to the tavern’s entrance. Naturally, when the door burst open, a cold gust of wind made me shudder. A man and a woman entered hurriedly, both looking very distressed.

‘I couldn’t find her anywhere!’ the woman shrieked urgently. ‘She wasn’t at Anne’s, she wasn’t at the fountain, she wasn’t in the park, we checked all the shops…’

‘Alright, calm down first,’ the man said and guided her to the table next to ours. The woman sat heavily and put her head between her hands.

‘Where has she gone?’

‘You don’t suppose she left the village…?’

‘And gone where!’

The man sighed and put a hand on his hip. ‘Maybe she stepped out and now can’t get back in, with the crank missing.’

‘She couldn’t have gone outside, Jean-Claude wouldn’t have let her!’ she cried, irritated.

‘You seriously trust that Jean-Claude?’

‘Matthieu, not now!’

I wondered if I should step in, but then I remembered Florence’s attitude when we asked for more details on the disappearances. I decided to just listen for now. Something clearly wasn’t right.

‘She’s at the tower,’ the woman stated in a shaky voice.

‘The-? You’re exaggerating now.’

‘Do you have any other explanation?’

This time the man pulled a chair to sit himself. ‘Why would she be in there?’

‘Why is anyone?’

After a short pause, Matthieu shook his head. ‘These are just rumours. I’m sure the tower is just an empty thing, it’s ready to crumble.’

The woman took a deep breath and fiddled with her fingers. She pursed her lips and her eyes suddenly seemed to fill with tears. ‘Then why’s it making these noises?’ she whimpered.

Matthieu’s face lit up. ‘That’s it!’ he said. ‘We didn’t hear the noise when Juliette disappeared, so she wasn’t taken to the tower!’

The woman seemed to consider his reasoning. ‘What if we just missed it?’ she asked, but something in her tone revealed she didn’t agree with her own thinking.

‘We couldn’t have.’

‘But what if there isn’t always this noise when someone disappears?’

‘It’s been that way for years, Esther. I don’t think things would change just like that. Calm down,’ he said. ‘Let’s ask at the bar.’

The pair noisily pushed their chairs back and slowly made their way to the back of the tavern, where I saw a wide-eyed Chanyeol approaching with our drinks in hand. After seeing his face, I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

He slammed the glasses on our table, spilling some of the rich brown liquid on the table.

‘I’ve got news,’ we said in unison.

\--

‘We can’t even enjoy a meal in peace in here,’ I grumbled. What would you call what we just had? A dinner? A breakfast? ‘What’s with all the superstition? I didn’t take them for the lot.’

Chanyeol scoffed. ‘You didn’t take them for the lot? They’ve been searching for a “Golden Apple” for God knows how long now, what are you talking about?’

I wanted to give a reaction, but I could barely speak with how stiff my jaw felt from the cold. The rum hadn’t helped as much as I hoped it would. ‘At least the Golden Apple promises wealth!’ I said. ‘Even sophisticated folks would do ridiculous things for money! What’s all that with the tower?’ My voice cracked.

Chanyeol was uncomfortably leaning against me – with great height came great weight- , he was both sleepy and tipsy, and I couldn’t concentrate on holding both of us up and guide us back to the right place. I had taken a wrong turn somewhere and I was ready to deem my mistake incorrigible and give up on the spot.

‘Stay away from the tower, my ass. What’s it going to do, chase me?’

‘It’ll engulf you and then make a digestive sound,’ I replied.

‘Is that your way of saying a “burp”?’

‘Why would I imply that a tower bur-’

‘Where _are_ we, Baekhyun?’

The sound of my first name from his lips made me feel very nervous. ‘I, ah…’

‘How could you get _lost_ in a _village_?’

‘Well, you’re not helping much yourself!’

‘This is so you,’ Chanyeol said. Then, he broke into an idiotic smile. ‘You’re so… You amaze me.’

I scoffed, to mask my little choke. ‘For all the wrong reasons.’

Chanyeol suddenly stopped walking, he stubbornly stomped his foot. ‘No,’ he said, ‘not the wrong reasons.’

The sincerity in his voice made me very uncomfortable, and suddenly I knew where this was going. I was waiting for it.

Chanyeol stopped leaning on me and did his upmost to stand straight. He held my shoulders with both hands, not allowing me to face anywhere else but towards him. There was a lamppost right next to us that weakly illuminated his face in a golden light, not much, but just enough to reveal his vulnerable expression. His large, almond eyes and his high cheekbones and the shabby skin of his jawline.

‘You’re always so quick to dismiss my feelings. And then you avoid me. And pretend like nothing happened.’

I focused on the glistening mist that left his lips as he spoke, that one part of me fighting to do what it was so used to doing and resist. But this felt a little different than other times, a little more intimate, a little more sober.

Another involuntary scoff escaped me, and I looked down, at our feet. If I moved mine a little forward, or if he moved his, they’d touch. ‘What “feelings”, Chanyeol?’ I asked, quietly. ‘Do you even know what you’re talking about?’

I felt one hand leave my shoulder, and with it the tension that overtook my body.

‘Yeah,’ he replied, simply. ‘Yeah, I do.’

With the corner of my eye, I saw that hand come level with my shoulder again, but then it travelled up, up and very slowly, very softly, settled on my cheek. The touch was icy and electrifying, and it made me flinch. It asked me so sweetly to look up, and I could do nothing but comply.

I had a retort ready, at the tip of my tongue, but the moment I met his eyes it vanished. His other hand crept slowly to the base of my neck, and he begun closing in.

My heartbeat was erratic, my chest swelling, and my mind split.

Suddenly, some movement behind him caught my attention, and without thinking, the force of habit lead me to my unwavering rejection.

‘Ah, excuse me!’ I called, and the sound of my loud voice shocked me. Chanyeol, like as if awakened from a trance, jumped back and around, to follow my gaze. There was a man a little ahead of us, handling a large garbage bag. ‘Could you please tell us the way to…’ the man turned, ‘…the…’

I thought my heart leaped out of my chest. One edge of the garbage bag slipped from his gloved fingers. On the ground, with a heavy thump, fell a body. The lights were dim, but still enough to make out the lifeless face.

‘ _Vincent?_ ’

The man immediately lunged to stuff Vincent back in the bag, having no significant trouble handling him although he was of smaller build. He pulled the bag over both shoulders, and dashed forward.

It took a few seconds for me to get out of my trance. The man had already taken a turn into an alley.

‘Hey, wait!’ I cried. ‘This is the police!’

Panicked, we ran after the man, into narrow, wet paths, with only the whiteness of the frantically moving bag and faint clinking to guide us. Our footfalls resonated heavily around us, our panting became more and more intense, our hearts were about to burst. I didn’t know how farther behind me Chanyeol was, but I wouldn’t bother to check. The running man was relentless.

After passing through a miserable garbage dump, we lost the man into a patch of greenery.

Thick bushes, trees with sharp twigs and tall nettles engulfed the assailant and drowned out any sound he made. I stepped in the muddy area, unhesitant, and took some unstable steps. It was completely dark. I felt Chanyeol touch my arm.

I stopped walking, and listened. Only Chanyeol’s breath, my heartbeat, and quiet buzzing. The rustling of leaves came with a small, icy breeze.

‘…What…’ Chanyeol gasped. ‘What just happened?!’

I could feel my blood now rising to my cheeks, and my throat hurt from the intake of chilly air. Transpiration was gathering at my hairline. ‘Was that Vincent?’ I panted, my eyebrows furrowed.

Chanyeol moved forward carefully, his right arm extended in front of me. The weak moonlight reflected off the threads of his jacket faintly. The wire of his glasses flashed as he turned to face me. ‘There’s a wall here,’ he said, quietly.

‘Where?’

‘Here.’

Sure enough, an ivy-covered rough wall stood in front of us. I moved my hand to the right, to the left – ignored Chanyeol’s fingers -, it seemed like it extended to the periphery.

‘What the hell…’ I whispered in defeat. ‘Where has he gone?’

‘How could he move so fast?’

I started walking to the right, feeling the wall as I went. It was high, and completely concrete. Something on the ground caught the weak moon rays, though. It was very small, at first I thought it was a cent. I bent to pick it up, dirtying my fingernails. I had held such a thing before, at the palm of my hand. A cog.

I shook my head in disbelief and looked up. In the pale light, I made out the outlines of a large house from within the wall. The higher I looked, the higher the house stretched, asymmetrical, dirty, ungracefully tall, almost at the brink of collapse; it was the tower.

A loud, rumbling sound came deep from underground, shaking me almost off my balance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooOOOOOooooo
> 
> Thank you for sticking around! I hope you're enjoying it so far!!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed so far! I'd love to hear from you in the comments<3
> 
> Have a wonderful rest of the day/night, and be safe!!


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